Where All The Dead Lie. J.T. Ellison

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СКАЧАТЬ went to the doctor this morning. Everything is a-okay, just still don’t have any voice to speak of. Pun intended. He offered me a deal: if I see Victoria Willig, the department’s psychologist, then he’ll approve me going back to work on limited duty in a few weeks. I have an appointment with her this afternoon. Where are you taking your father to dinner?

      His message came back quickly. She was right, he was on the train.

      Open your chat.

      She did, and Memphis was there, a default smiley face waiting on her.

      Dinner is at The Witchery, of course. The finest meal in Edinburgh. It’s divine. I’d love to take you sometime. We’ll have Beef Wellington and burnt custard for pudding.

      That does sound good. But what, no haggis?

      Would YOU eat sheep’s stomach stuffed with oats? It’s actually not bad. I simply prefer a more refined meal.

      Ugh. No thanks. What else will you do tonight?

      That’s it. Father is taking the car back to the estate, and I’m heading back to London on the late train. This case is getting ready to blow up, I can just feel it. I’ll be pulled in by the morning.

      Memphis had mentioned the case to her before. Two girls missing, now three, from their London homes. He’d been watching it from afar, wondering what sort of escalation was coming. Taylor knew that feeling. An investigator is only as good as their instincts, and she respected the idea of a hunch.

      At least you’ll be calling the shots. Your mother won’t be joining you for dinner?

      The Countess? No, she’s in South Africa with my brother. His vineyard is having a wee bit of difficulty, and she offered to go and help.

      The Countess is a vintner too?

      Her talents know no bounds. Like someone else I’m acquainted with.

      Taylor let that slide. She wasn’t feeling terribly talented these days. Not having her own case to work, her own show to run, she just wasn’t herself.

      Memphis wrote again.

      I’ve been thinking: If you have to see a therapist to get clearance to return to work, why don’t you make plans to visit? One of my dearest friends is a celebrated psychologist. You can stay at the estate, she can drop in for your visits, and you can get a break. Do some outdoors stuff. I know it’s a bit chilly now, but with the proper gear it would be lovely. The house is all done up for Christmas, it’s quite beautiful. My father will be joining my mother in South Africa for the holidays, so there’s no one around. You can have the run of the place. Get away from those pesky reporters who’ve been nagging you. What do you think?

      Taylor sat back in her chair, the mouse forgotten in her hand. Scotland. For Christmas. An escape from Nashville, from the condemnation of her loved ones, away from the silence that bound her. She wouldn’t be expected to speak if she were alone. No one to look over her shoulder, check on her every movement, look at her with doubt. No one to talk about her behind her back. She wouldn’t have to keep pretending that she didn’t notice that everyone was acting like she was some ticking time bomb.

      And she’d been fodder for the Nashville media yet again. They’d done story after story, broadcast her condition, delved into her past and speculated about her future. She didn’t go a day without at least one interview request. They filled her email box and took up space on her answering machine. What was she supposed to do, go on air and mime what had happened? No thanks.

      Taylor? Are you still here?

      She wouldn’t be cleared to go back to work for a few weeks anyway. What harm could come of her sneaking away for a bit? If Memphis’s doctor friend would check in with Benedict for her, maybe that would suffice to get him to clear her to go back to work.

      But what would that mean to Memphis, if she agreed to come stay on his estate? Memphis was forever pushing, purposefully misinterpreting her intentions. Fending him off wasn’t always as easy as it should be. The constant attention was flattering. Memphis was different than Baldwin. Baldwin loved her, Memphis wanted her. She had no illusions about the difference.

      Things with Memphis would be…simpler. Lust was always easier than love.

      She realized he was waiting for an answer.

      I’m here. Sorry about that. I don’t know, Memphis. I’ve just promised to see the department shrink. Maybe this isn’t the best timing, you know?

      Dearest Taylor, you’ll go mad being around the office and not allowed to work. It’s a travesty that they’ve even suggested you suffer this indignity. Why don’t you wait until you can return fully, unencumbered by this little glitch? We can fix you. Heal you. I know it.

      She had an idea of what kind of healing Memphis would like to employ. Would that make things better for her, or worse? And were things so off the rails with Baldwin that she was actually tempted to find solace with another man? Not just another man, but Memphis? She shoved that thought away; she didn’t want to go there. Not now. Not after the morning they’d had.

      I’m sure Baldwin wouldn’t take kindly to me jetting off to the UK. I’d have to ask him along.

      No, no, no. That’s exactly the point. A getaway, a holiday, means being away from everything and everyone.

      Including you?

      There was a pause on his end this time.

      I wouldn’t presume to lurk on your holiday. I’d see you safely ensconced at the estate, introduce you around, maybe give you a tour of the Highlands, then I’d have to return to London for work. Truly, think about it. Relaxation, and being away from your cares, might be just the ticket.

      So she really would be alone. That was tempting. So very tempting.

      I’ll think about it. Promise. I have to go though, my appointment with the shrink is soon. Have a nice dinner. Wish the Earl Happy Birthday for me. Enjoy the grouse.

      How did you know that’s what I’d be ordering?

      Just a guess. See ya, Memphis.

      Au revoir, ma chere.

      The chat window closed and she was left alone, wondering why she was even entertaining the idea of taking Memphis up on his offer. It was a foolhardy, dangerous thing to do. Baldwin wouldn’t agree to it in a million years. But maybe leaving town would help? Distance could make the heart grow fonder.

      Or break it cleanly in two.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      Dr. Samantha Owens Loughley stood poised over the body of an older man who’d passed away on the porch of his home, taking notes. Slight skin slippage. Facial congestion. Insect activity on legs. She was relatively certain he’d died of natural causes, but an unattended death meant an autopsy.

      The rest of the day’s autopsies were lined up on their individual tables, attendants at the ready, СКАЧАТЬ